


Darkness is a part of us

by Lux_in_tenebris_777



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bashing Dumbledore, Bashing Ron, Blood and Gore, Dark!Harry, F/M, Later Smut, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not so insane Voldemort, OC, Torture, bashing Hermione, crude language, i'm not homophobic but some characters are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lux_in_tenebris_777/pseuds/Lux_in_tenebris_777
Summary: When Harry was dropped on the doorstep of the Dursleys, they never gave him the love a family is supposed to give their children. Abused and full of hatred the small boy meets his saving angel - or should he better say demon?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 11
Kudos: 74





	1. Family?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic and i´m not a native english speaker so please don´t kill me... otherwise enjoy this attempt at being what i aspire to be

Trying to stop the bleeding of his hands, a little boy was sitting alone in his cupboard under the stairs. The rich dark colour of the blood contrasted greatly with the pale skin of the child, and his thin frame trembled. Uncle Vernon had punished him again. Did the man not understand that a six year old boy, especially such a small one, could not possibly reach the top of a car to wash it? In less than an hour he would be called to make dinner and then to clean the kitchen and then to wipe the floor and then to water the plants. The small child wasn't even sure whether he would succeed in forcing his body to do the chores or whether he would lose consciousness then and there.

It seemed that he had sat longer then he had thought in the dark, because he could hear the shrill voice of his aunt calling him to prepare dinner for Vernon and her little Diddydums who was "so hungry". It didn't even occur to the woman that the second child under her roof could feel hungry too. The boy was a freak, freaks are not human and that means they do not need human necessities - or so she felt. Hence the reason why the two children living in Privet Drive Number 4 could not have been more different.

One boy was well fed and resembled a baby whale more than a child, his wailing for more and better toys constantly filling the house. The other boy was nearly invisible, never talking and only seen when he was working or being punished. One boy was loved - the other loathed.

Flicking his midnight black, tousled hair from his eyes, the trembling boy started to prepare dinner. Soon uncle Vernon would be back at home and dinner had to be ready by then. In an effort to be faster he grabbed too many plates in one go and before he could even try to intervene the dishes fell and shattered on the kitchen floor. Horrified, the child stared at the shards of his aunt's favorite china set, head swimming when he thought about the punishment he would have to face. Falling to his knees, he tried to collect all the shards, wishing with all his might that for once that freakish power he seemed to possess would help him. 

Suddenly the dishes in his hands repaired themselves, leaving the boy frozen in shock. He came back to reality rather harshly when he heard the angry scream of aunt Petunia." Vernon! The Freak did something freakish again! In our normal house!" The pale boy blanched even further. He was sure Vernon would kill him this time and if the crazed glint in his aunts eyes was something to go by, it would be painful. Extremely so. Without even thinking the small boy bolted from the kitchen and out of the front door. Even if it sounded crazy, suddenly he was thankful for the many times his cousin’s gang had chased him, for it helped him now running away as fast as he could.

The small boy stopped only when he was deep in the forest, falling to his knees in exhaustion. Sweat was glistening on his forehead and his breath came in quick pants. Eyes rolling back in his head, the small boy fainted.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he woke up again, he was laying in a bed. If that was not crazy enough, for the first time since he could remember he didn't feel the constant ache of his punishments. Curious and a bit afraid he looked around and his mouth fell open in shock. The room was the most beautiful and haunting place he had ever seen. The bed itself was a black four poster with dark green silk sheets with drapes of the same shade obscuring nearly all sunlight. In a corner the small boy could see a desk and on the opposite side, a wardrobe so big it was nearly intimidating. The whole room was dimly lit with torches and they barely illuminated the dark corners of the room. And then it hit the small boy like a boulder to the stomach. He could see! Without the hideous glasses that dulled his eerie eyes his relatives so abhorred. How was that even possible? And where the hell was he?

The answer came faster than anticipated. With a tortured screech the door opened and the bizarrest sight greeted the small child. The woman that had entered fit the aesthetic of the room perfectly. Glacial blue eyes met his and the child shuddered. Whoever this woman was, she was powerful. Her blond hair was falling to mid back and her black dress was complimenting her figure. In comparison to that stranger, the boy felt even smaller and more insignificant.

Suddenly the woman smiled and her whole face seemed to light up, even her eyes. "I see you have woken up my dear, tell me what is your name?" she asked the child sitting down in a chair that seemingly materialized in front of him. Looking wide eyed at the chair he suddenly remembered that the woman had asked him something. 

"I don't have a name ma'am", the boy whispered with his eyes downcast. "My aunt and uncle only ever called me boy or freak." The room temperature dropped and the woman's eyes blazed in fury. 

"So they didn't even tell you your name? What vile human beings they are! Listen child everything these disgusting monsters told you is a lie. You see, your parents were killed when you were a baby and their murderer also wanted to kill you, but he didn't succeed and perished instead. The wizarding world knows you as Harry Potter, the boy who lived. I normally do not interfere with human life, but when my raven found you in the forest I decided to take you in. That is, if you are willing."   
Staring perplexed at the woman the boy tried to understand what the woman had thrown at him. So his parents weren't drunks that died in a car crash but victims of a murderer who almost killed him too. And apparently there was a wizarding world which would mean his freakish power was magic. The woman in front of him was offering to take him in, but what did she mean with 'not interfering in human life'? Who was this woman?

"I thank you for your offer ma'am and for rescuing me out of the forest, but I have so many questions. How do you know me? And how do you know my name? Is there really a magical world? Who healed me?" Remembering his manners, he whispered a sheepish apology. 

"No harm done dear. As to answer your questions, the man that tried to kill you was a dark wizard who lost his sanity and attacked your house because some hag prophesied that you would be his downfall. Nobody could get rid of him so when he perished through attacking you, the wizarding world hailed you as their hero. There is no one who doesn't know of you, the only survivor of the killing curse. After your parents died, a wizard named Albus Dumbledore left you on the doorstep of your relatives that very night. I know you and your name because I know everyone. There is not one human that I don't know about and you my dear would have had an awful fate if I hadn't decided that I would interfere and turn your fate to your favor."   
Harry's head was spinning and the information was almost too much to process, even for the admittedly intelligent six year old.   
After a short silence the boy asked the question that nagged him the most, "Who are you?" A smirk tugged at the crimson lips, as the woman stood and opened the door. Almost out of the room she looked back at him and answered:

"Death".  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
(Time skip)  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Nearly a year had passed and Harry loved his new home. Even though at first he had been afraid of Death and her dark large mansion, he adjusted fairly quickly. He had his own room and his own clothes, that were for once not second-hand rags that practically swallowed him. The most important thing to the small boy was the fact that he had a name. Harrison Kuro Peverell. Harry didn't want to be the boy-hero ´Harry Potterˋ that everyone knew, the carbon copy of his father, the perfect light lamb. No, he was his own person and nobody could change that. 

The wizarding world could not just abandon him, leave him to be almost killed, and then expect him to be their little savior. Death had told him everything about Dumbledore who ruled wizarding Britain without them realizing, Lord Voldemort who had started as a promising revolutionary but then made a mistake that cost him his sanity, and of course about Harry Potter, the perfect light kid whom everyone loved oh so dearly.

Tomorrow Harry would turn seven and his second magical influx would come. Death had explained to him that children's magic grew when they turned three, seven, thirteen and seventeen years old, seventeen being the age wizards and witches became legal adults in the wizarding world. Harry's magic had been suppressed at his relatives house, due to uncle Vernon trying to beat the magic out of him. Now though his magic had grown and swirled freely around him whenever his emotions were running high. His emerald eyes positively glowed and his small body was markedly healthier than a year ago. Death had been the mother he never had, teaching him magic, the olde traditions and manners. Harry on the other hand, provided the immortal being with a source of entertainment and a willing student to teach the olde ways.

Living with Death not only made him healthy and well mannered, but also nurtured his already dark sense of humor and lowered his morals. The sorrow, pain and death of people didn't faze him, and he himself was surprised just how much he enjoyed it when Death took him with her for the first time to show him how she collected souls.

The morning of Harry's seventh birthday was a wonderfully gloomy and rainy one. Sliding out of the large bed he tapped barefoot into the bathroom and readied himself for the day. He felt positively glowing with power, his emerald eyes shining an almost eerie green. When he was ready, the small boy descended the great staircase and entered the dining hall. Death was already waiting and wrapped her cold arms around him in an embrace. "Happy Birthday Harrison." she whispered, "I have a present for you dear, but first you have to eat." With that said, the only occupants of the large mansion enjoyed a peaceful breakfast, conversing about everything and nothing. When both were sated, Death led Harry down into the dungeons of the house.

Upon entering the dark, damp room, Harry curiously looked around. His eyes noticed someone sitting in a corner of one of the cells and he approached the bars. When he finally recognized the prisoner his eyes grew impossibly large and then a sadistic grin stretched his blood red lips. "Well hello uncle dearest, fancy seeing you here. Decided to visit your nephew did you?" He asked mockingly. Death tousled his raven hair and grinned her own sadistic grin. 

"He's all yours, dear. You can play with him all you want and when you're finished we'll simply dispose of him."   
Harry smiled up at Death and with a small whispered, ``Thank you” he opened the bars and entered. Vernons eyes were blazing with fury and he was struggling against the iron chains which held him in place. Smirking, Harry removed the gag and immediately angry shouting filled the dungeons.   
"You! Freak! Release me immediately or I'll kill you! How dare you stand there and smirk? Tuny was right, should've drowned you when you were small! And what the devil are you wearing? What are you a faggot? Wearing makeup and that freakish long hair of yours! Do you take it up the ass to live decently? Do you whore y-" Harry's eyes were blazing with fury and his breath was ragged as he stretched his hand out and willed his magic to shut the bastard up. 

Slowly he pulled his favorite dagger out and dragged it down his uncles chest, cutting the shirt open and staining it with blood. The vivid colour and copper stench making his head light and made him want to see more blood, to swim in it. Slowly and deliberately he cut patterns in his tormentor's skin. The feeling of hurting the man who had often beaten him within an inch of his life was glorious and definitely addictive. Lifting the silencing spell he directed his magic to put him under the most excruciating pain he could imagine. His uncles screams were music to his ears and he relished in it. The magic was addicting and the pleasure was shaking his small body. Finally he came back to reality when he felt a hand shaking his shoulder. Looking back at his victim he realized that the man had lost his sanity and a copious amount of blood. Nearly absentmindedly he flicked his hand and life left the beady eyes.

That was his first kill.


	2. Not what he’s supposed to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry’s first year at Hogwarts begins and the image everyone had in mind crumbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> $parsel$

The letter arrived when he was reading his new book “Deadly Plants and Poisons”, which Death had given him for his eleventh birthday. IIt was laying innocently on his desk and Harry was hard pressed not to set it on fire.

Of course Death had told him everything the magical world would expect of him and he was determined to destroy their silly little dreams. No, they would not get the Harry Potter they wanted.

Reading through his letter he pondered about how he would introduce himself to the magical world. He certainly would have to curb his bloodlust and possibly make some good allies-yes those were always good to have.

First he would have to buy his school robes and supplies and maybe he would be able to convince Death to let him roam Knockturn Alley a bit.  
The prospect of crushing the wizarding worlds dreams and finding some interesting things in the dark part of the small shopping district certainly lifted his spirits and the small boy went to inform Death of his plans.  
——————————————————————————  
(Diagon Alley)

Looking around Harry could not help but be amazed. In his whole short life he’d never seen such a big mass of people. Confidently he entered the building that dominated the busy Alley.

Gringotts was quite flashy in his opinion but that certainly didn’t make the place any less tasteful.

Approaching one of the tellers he made use of the manners Death taught him. With a glance to the badge the Goblin was wearing he addressed the Teller politely. “Greetings Teller Blood Claw. May I inquire about my vault and withdraw an amount of gold?”

The Goblin seemed surprised at his polite choice of words but quickly hid his surprise. “ Of course. If you would state your name and vault number?”

“Harrison Kuro Peverell. I regretfully do not know my vault number, nor am I in possession of my key. Would it be possible to perform an inheritance test and summon my key? I have a slight suspicion that someone has used it for their own gain.”  
Again the Goblin seemed surprised by the behavior of the young child, but waved him to follow.

Several long corridors later the young wizard found himself standing in front of a very opulent door, leading to a certain SharpTooth’s office.  
Bowing slightly the young wizard said the traditional parting words, “may your blade be warmed by your enemies blood.” 

“And your gold always flow,” replied the wide eyed goblin.  
The shock turned into a smug grin, maybe the wizards were not totally lost.

Account manager SharpTooth let him in and after the boy took a seat, got directly down to business.

Harry had to let three drops of blood fall on a thick black piece of parchment and seconds later the sheet was filled with a multitude of words.  
Reading through them showed Harry that he not only was heir to Potter, Black, Slytherin, Gryffindor and Peverell but also that he was so rich, he would never have to work a day in his life!

That was certainly very good news.

Not so good, was that apparently Dumbledore had used quite a chunk of his gold to pay various families including the Dursley’s and families he didn’t even know.

With SharpTooth’s help he reversed all payment, summoned his key which was in Dumbledore's possession and keyed a Gringotts card to his blood.  
The card was supposed to work like a muggle debit card and was, in Harry’s opinion, a rather brilliant invention.

Parting with the same traditional phrases, the boy ventured off to buy his school supplies.

His first stop was Ollivanders, where he intended to buy his wand.  
Harry was perfectly aware that his magic was finetuned enough that with his will a wand would be unnecessary, but he would not lay all of his cards out in the open.

The shop was dark and covered in cobwebs and dust. Suddenly an old man appeared and Harry was glad that Death had trained him not to show his surprise.

“Mr. Potter. I have awaited you for a long time. It is as if it was only yesterday that your parents bought their own wands. They were good people, people to be proud of.”

Although Harry didn’t appreciate being called Potter, his heart felt oddly warm at the old wandmakers words.  
Soon Harry was going through the wands one after another, letting the copious rejects pile up at Olivander’s side. He had been trying to find a fit for almost thirty minutes!

Suddenly Olivander disappeared in the back of his shop and came back with a box so old and dusty, Harry thought for sure it had not been touched for at least half a century.

“Here try this one. Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.”

Harry took the wand and felt warmth spread along his arm. But something didn’t feel right, as if there was something blocking the pleasant feeling.  
“Ah, it seems the core corresponds with your magic whereas the wood does not. Come, Mr. Potter.”

The wand maker led Harry into the back room of the shop and told him to try and feel with his magic which wood would be the best choice.  
As soon as the boy concentrated his magic to the woods lining the tables, he felt a connection. Picking up the deep black piece of wood, he passed it to Ollivander, who took it carefully and told him to come get his wand in an hour.

Harry decided to use this time to get fitted for his robes. Entering ‘Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions’ he waited until it was his time to get measured.

Half an hour later he had his school uniforms shrunken in his pocket and went to buy the rest of his supplies.  
He was glad that Death hadn’t decided to accompany him, or he would never have had the chance to buy such a large amount of sweets.  
Death herself was not particularly fond of anything sweet other than chocolate, so he had never had the possibility to taste wizarding candy.  
Satisfied with his purchases, he went back to Ollivanders to get his wand.

Entering he was greeted with a,” ah mister Potter you are exactly on time. Here is your wand, elder and phoenix feather, twelve inches long. Your wand, Mr. Potter has a brother, which gave you this scar.“ Saying that, the old man pointed to Harry’s forehead. “You see, the phoenix who gave his feather for You-Know-Who’s wand, gave only one other which is now in yours.“

Whatever the man was hoping to achieve with that information certainly didn’t happen, as Harry only shrugged and paid for the wand, before leaving with a polite nod.

The evening found Death and Harry laughing over the simple material the first year would cover.

——————————————————————————  
(Time skip brought to you by Death, because she was bored…)

Early in the morning of September the first, Harry was already sitting in an empty compartment of the Hogwarts Express. Death had brought him to the station quite early and by the time the train started to move he was already deeply engrossed in his book.

Sometime during the train ride, the door suddenly opened with a bang and a girl with bushy hair stuck her head into the compartment.  
“Have you seen a toad? Neville lost his.” Harry shook his head and she was about to go away when she noticed the book in his lap. “ I’ve never seen this book. It’s not part of the first year curriculum, I’ve read them all and memorized them! Do you think you can lend me your book when you’re finished?” She babbled on and on, causing Harry to frown in annoyance. 

Scowling he said, ”excuse me, but I have been trying to read in peace and you keep talking and distracting me. Also I can’t lend you the book because you would not understand the language.” That caused the girl to become angry and consequently even more annoying. 

“You're being rude, you know? Also, how’d you even know whether I can read it or not? I was the best in all of my classes!” Sighing, Harry showed her the book, which looked full of squiggles to her. Seeing that she really was unable to read it, she angrily stomped away.  
Luckily for Harry, she was the only one to visit his compartment and soon the train arrived at Hogwarts.

Already wearing his school robes, Harry was able to relax until the train stopped.  
Children began filing out of the express and a half giant was calling the first years.

Together the children crossed the sea in little self rowing boats, four students per boat.  
Harry was sharing his boat with two girls who seemed rather nice and a shy boy, Neville who had at last found his toad and seemed quite nervous.

Hogwarts was beautiful.

The first years and Hagrid arrived at a big staircase before the main entrance, where a stern witch awaited the children.  
“The firs’ years, Profess’r McGonagall,” Hagrid exclaimed proudly.

McGonagall led the small group of first years into the castle and after a short introduction of the house system and point system, she disappeared in the great hall.

Chattering broke out among the children, but one particular loud boy managed to catch Harry’s attention.  
“Where is Harry Potter,” the red haired boy asked loudly. “ Harry is my best friend, I already know he’ll be with me in Gryffindor! I can’t wait to be his best mate!”

Harry couldn’t stop the short snort that escaped him. He had never even seen this boy and here he was bragging about being Harry Potters ‘best mate’. It was ridiculous!

It seemed that the redhead had heard him, because suddenly he was right in front of Harry, trying to use his height to intimidate the other student that seemed to be laughing at him.

“What’re you laughing about, hm? What does a little girl like you even know about Harry, he clearly wouldn’t give stuck-up pure bloods like you the time of the day.”

Harry’s amusement faded slightly, people like this boy, or the girl from the train were the people he didn’t like the most. Bullies and know-it-alls.  
Also he didn’t understand why the boy had just called him ‘little girl’? Sure he was rather small, almost petite, and had his long hair in a braid. Also his robes were concealing his body… ok he understood why the boy would mistake him for a girl.

“Did you even meet Potter once in your life?” Harry asked slowly. “For all you know he could be in any House, not necessarily Gryffindor. What if he’s a Slytherin?”

That caused the red head to splutter in outrage. “How can you even imply that Harry could be a slimy snake!”  
This statement caused a blond haired boy to join the conversation which seemed to be followed by every first year.

“Red hair, hand-me-down robes. You must be a Weasley.” He sneered. Then he turned to the third participant of the small verbal fight. “I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”  
Harry smirked slightly, the Malfoys could certainly be valuable allies.

“Harrison Kuro Peverell, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” answered Draco.

If he was shocked that the girl was not in fact a girl, he didn’t show it. The other children though, were quite surprised.  
Before more tumult could break out, McGonagall appeared once again and led the first years into the great hall.

Everyone was in awe, the obnoxious girl from the train said something about the enchanted ceiling and ‘Hogwarts a History’, the other children were murmuring among themselves.

Suddenly an old hat in front of the staff table began to sing:

Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

[Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone]

McGonagall cleared her throat and addressed the first years. “ When I call your name you will come to the front and sit on this stool,” she indicated to the three legged stool in front of the teachers table.  
“Then I will place the sorting hat on your head and it will sort you. Hannah Abbot!”  
A girl with blond pigtails was sorted in Hufflepuff. Other students followed until finally…

“Harry Potter”

Harry walked up to the stool in a dignified manner, whispers surrounding him. He could hear snippets of, ”that is Harry Potter?”,”he looks like a bloody girl!”,”he’ll be in Gryffindor for sure”, and so on.

He sat down and McGonagall set the hat on his head.

“Well, well, well. Good evening Mr. Potter, or should I better say Mr. Peverell. Do not fret I can’t tell anyone your secrets, I’m sworn to secrecy. Let’s see… you certainly would be a good Ravenclaw with your love for books. You could also be a Gryffindor, being afraid of almost nothing, but there is only one place that could truly fit you, where you can become great. Better be…

SLYTHERIN!”


	3. Slytherin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Harry - the-boy-who-lived - fit into the House of Snakes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not writing so long, my sister had stolen my tablet and just gave it back :(  
> Anyways, enjoy...
> 
> Also I decided to change Parseltounge from $Snake$ to Italien script and those $- thingies
> 
> !( at the end there’s almost a sexuell assault, so if you don’t wanna read that, skip)!

"SLYTHERIN!"

The great hall was shocked into such a great silence that Harry could swear he was able to hear the cogs slowly turning in the heads of students and teachers alike.

His quiet snicker sounded like a full blown cackle in the otherwise quiet hall. Pressing the hat into the hands of a very shocked McGonnagall, the small boy almost sauntered down to the green-silver clad table, where he proceeded to sit down across an equally shocked and smug looking Draco Malfoy.

Finally catching themselves, the Slytherins began to clap politely and soon the teachers joined in. The Ravenclaws and Huffelpuffs were the next to join the hesitant clapping, while the Gryffindors were either still in shock and denial or simply didn't want to applaud for a snake.

After that 'incident' the sorting resumed without further interruptions. Harry didn't bother listening, his attention being demanded by the Malfoy heir.

"So you're Harry Potter. Surprising choice of House, everyone imagined their savior to end up in the house of the brave and chivalrous." The blond commented.

Covering his mouth with a small hand the dark haired boy giggled. "I can't even imagine why somebody would think I would fit into Gryffindor. Nobody even knows where or how I grew up. As far as they know I could have been raised by former Death Eaters."

That statement caught the attention of several other Slytherins. " What do you mean? The golden boy raised by dark wizards? As if Dumbledore would allow that," an older boy drawled. Harry simply shrugged and directed his attention to the teachers.

"... also this year the third floor corridor is out of bounds for everyone who doesn't want to die a painful death..."

What kind of school has something that kills it's students in a painful way? Harry would have to remember that and check that floor later. His palms were already itching when he thought about something potentially dangerous and deadly. The other Students either laughed or looked in shock at the smiling Headmaster

Harry was so zoned out, that he almost flinched when suddenly food appeared. Not being really hungry Harry just picked a bit at his food. The small boy noticed the calculating and sometimes hostile glances the mostly older Slytherins sent him, and grinned in his head. He knew that sooner or later they would try to "show him his place". Well, he looked forward to it.

After the feast in the great hall, the first years were led to their dormitories by their respective head students. The Slytherin common room did not disappoint. Harry immediately fell in love with it.

There were high bookshelves and black hardwood tables with many chairs. In front of the grand fireplace was a black leather couch and matching armchairs. Silver rugs with green accents made the room a bit lighter, but otherwise the atmosphere was rather dark, which suited Harry perfectly.

Together with the other first years he was standing in front of the fireplace, waiting for their head of house to arrive and tell them the house rules. Suddenly the man was standing in front of them, how he appeared this fast and silent, was a question Harry was keen on finding out the answer to.

Without wasting a moment, the professor began talking in a deep, almost whispering tone." You are now members of the prestigious House of Slytherin. I am Professor Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin and resident potions master and teacher. In Slytherin we have three main rules.

First, what happens in the house, stays in the house. Being the most scorned house in Hogwarts, we have to present a united front. If any problems arise, work them out in the common room.

Second, don't do anything to lose points. If you have to do something which could result in point loss or detention, don't get caught. As long as you don't get caught, I don't care what you do.

Third, if you need any help ask your fellow snakes. Do not go asking for help from the other houses. If something happens talk to the prefects. Should they be unable to provide the help needed, you can find me in my office next to the potions classroom." 

With that the sour man sauntered away, cloak billowing behind him, but not before throwing Harry a poisonous glare.

The head boy proceeded to explain where the dormitories are, and sent them away to unpack their trunks and go to bed.  
Arriving in the dorm, Harry realised that he would have to share one room with four boys. Well, the more the merrier. His roommates turned out to be Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and a rather shy boy named Theodore Nott.

Taking his things, Harry went into the bathroom to take a shower and change into his sleepwear.   
Emerging from the bathroom half an hour later, wearing a black lacy nightgown, he nearly gave the other boys a stroke.

"Potter why do you look like a girl?" Surprisingly the question was asked by the otherwise not very talkative Theodore.  
Harry flushed, not really knowing how to answer the question. Help came in the form of none other than Draco Malfoy. " Potter can wear whatever he wants, Theodore. If he wants to dress like a girl then let him do that, judging people's appearance could prove to be dangerous," he spoke up. Harry threw him a grateful glance and went to bed.

Harry knew that the other boys would most likely talk about him if they thought him asleep, and he wasn't wrong.  
"Draco I don't understand this. Why would Potter wear girls clothes and have such long hair? I mean he is a boy! Why does he look like a girl?" Asked the Nott boy.

After a few moments Draco answered hesitantly," well I don't really know. Maybe he wants to be a girl, or he simply likes both types of clothing, or he could be gay. Who knows? My mother taught me to never judge or underestimate a person based on appearance. You never know how powerful or dangerous said person could be. Also it's not polite."

Grinning into his pillow, Harry knew he made the right choice in deciding to befriend the Malfoy heir.

. ...... ... ... ...... ... ... ... ... ............... ... ... ...... ...  
( Next day)

Other than some polite small talk, the boys hadn't talked much. During breakfast they had gotten their timetables, and Harry groaned when he realised that most of his lessons would be with the Gryffindors. The others had similar reactions

Arriving at the Potions classroom, Harry struck up a light conversation about potions with Malfoy, who was a surprisingly good conversation partner.

Loud chatter announced the arrival of the Lions, and Harry wasn't the only one to look slightly annoyed. Turning back to Malfoy, Harry tried to ignore the other house, when we suddenly heard his name.

"Harry, mate! What are you doing there with those slimy snakes? Dumbledore said there must have been a mistake and you can go to the headmasters office to get resorted this afternoon!" a red head yelled. Weasley, Harry's mind supplied.

Turning around with a sugary smile, he answered him.  
"If you didn't realize Weasley, I'm a 'slimy snake', too. And the sorting wasn't a mistake. Slytherin is the only house that would truly fit me. Oh, and please, call me Peverell, we are not friends."

Ron spluttered angrily, his face turning a rather ugly shade of red.  
Before he could answer, the door opened and the class walked into the room.

"There will be no silly wand waving in this class. Many of you would think that potions are not really magic, but I could teach you how to ensnare the senses, brew fame and bottle glory. I can teach you to put a stopper in death ... if you aren't a bunch of dunderheads." Professor Snape drawled. He then proceeded to call attendance, until...

"Harry Potter,” he said in a menacing voice, "our new celebrity. Tell me, What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?

Harry didn't even look up when he answered,:" The draught of living death, sir. A sleeping draught, so strong that those who ingest it appear to be dead."

Snape clearly didn't expect the answer, but acknowledged it nonetheless. "5 points to Slytherin,” he choked out, his face scrunched up as if he had been forced to eat a lemon.

Resuming his questioning, he focused on the lanky redhead in the last row.

"Weasley! Where would you search for a Bezoar?"  
... ...................................................................... ................... .........  
The first week at Hogwarts passed considerably well. Harry and Draco had formed a tentative friendship, Blaise tagging along. Weasley had tried to befriend Harry, but when he realized that the smaller boy had no interest in being his friend, he had turned into a rather fierce bully.

Weasley was not the only one who was against Harry being a Slytherin.

Saturday evening Harry was standing in front of one of the bookshelves, trying to find an interesting book to read. Suddenly Harry realized that the common room was almost eerily quiet.

Turning around, he came face to face with one of the older Slytherins, sixth or seventh year.  
Looking around Harry realized that almost the whole house was assembled in the common room.  
The small boy wanted to ask something, but the older boy beat him to it.

"Potter, you might think that you belong here, but we all know better. You are Dumbledore's little Saviour, you don't belong in this prestigious house! You are a shame to Slytherin, but you don't seem to realize that. We're going to teach you a lesson you won't ever forget!"

He held his wand under Harry's chin as if to emphasize his point.

Whatever reaction the others expected, it wasn't the small giggle that escaped the dark haired boy. Angry that the brat dared to giggle at his threat, he cast a full body bind, and levitated the small boy to the middle of the common room.

Lying there on the floor bound by black ropes, his long hair spread around him like a halo, he looked like a sacrifice.

Some of the older boys seemed rather 'distracted' by the picture he made. Sending the first to fourth years away, the older students exchanged a few glances and slowly sinister grins began to spread on their faces.

"We have seen you wear girls clothes. Swaying that little ass like a whore. You want to be fucked don't you? We will teach you a lesson, one you won't forget." Saying that, one of the older boys raised his wand, ready to cast a vanishing spell on the bound boy's clothes, when suddenly an ear piercing scream shook the walls of the common room. 

It was a few seconds later when they realized that the scream did not in fact belong to their victim, but the sixth year student who was laying on the floor, clutching his shattered wand arm to his chest. In the resulting shocked silence, Harry’s giggling was one of the scariest sounds some of the students had ever heard.

Only now did they realize that the boy was sitting without his restraints, a crazed expression in his glowing eyes.  
“Oh man, I really thought I would be able to hide this for a bit longer. It’s hard to befriend people when they see your sadistic side… oh well… remember the first rule of our house my fellow snakes! Don’t go and tell on me.” 

Then the boy disappeared into his dormitory. The other Slytherin just looked at each other and decided synchronously that it would probably be better to apologize and try to get on his good side... he was way too powerful for a first year.


End file.
